


Voyager

by Ra_Sun_Breaker



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, F/F, F/M, Inspired by the Metro Series, Minor Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus, Will add more tags as more characters/plot is introduced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-25 21:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ra_Sun_Breaker/pseuds/Ra_Sun_Breaker
Summary: Ruined cities. No, ruined civilizations. Ruined World. This is what my sister and I were born into, a ruined world in which we live in the consequences of those before us.A RWBY AU, taking place after a disastrous nuclear war that left the world in disrepair. Enter Yang Xiao Long, a warrior on a mission to seek out her mother, and hopefully more human life that exists outside of Vale- outside of the Tunnels. Who knows who or what she may meet along the way?Written in the third-person perspective of Yang.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

_Ruined cities. No, ruined civilizations. Ruined world. This is what my sister and I were born into, a ruined world in which we live in the consequences of those before us. This was the world that Dad and... her, were born into. The further away I get from home, the more I regret having left in the first place. I did have a choice, to stay behind in Vale and gather food and supplies for all of us living in the tunnels. The nuclear winter made life on the surface very hard, Ruby and I were always told there was nothing to be desired up here. That beyond the city limits, there were only monsters of Grimm and no other people. We were taught that no one had survived the bombing, or the radiation that settled on the surface for many years after. Even in Vale, it was so bad that we had to always wear gas masks and all the filters in the bunkers have been reused so many times that they wouldn’t last any longer than five minutes. Any expedition to the surface was met with a nasty resistance from those deformed creatures, and the radiation made those who stayed up too long very ill._

_I didn’t have to leave, but I chose to. Everyone was telling me that there was no one else left, that we were all alone, but why was that? What if there were other civilizations like us, who found solace in the massive tram stations that ran between kingdoms? And, if that’s the case, then that means that my mother could still be out there. Raven. For you, I have so many questions._

The ink smeared against the writer’s right pinky. She made her writing as neat as possible, but this was no easy task to complete. An involuntary shiver had run through her form and she hugged her thick coat closer to her form. She let out a breath, the fog billowing out of her lips due to the biting, cold air around. Her violet eyes scanned over the pages of her journal, admiring her small scrawling across the weathered pages, before she set aside her damaged quill and closed the small vial of ink, preserving the very limited amount that remained. Her hand reached out to clasp the vial between her cold, weathered fingers and pulled it into an unoccupied pouch on her rucksack. The dying light of the sun was creeping in through the fractured roof of the train car she had taken shelter in. The weather was looking bad, so the lone woman had patched what she could and laid out all the material she had to keep herself warm. When she took too deep of a breath, a nasty cough slipped out of her lips, so she lifted her gasmask up from her lap. Her weathered hands pulled the straps to loosen them, and she placed the equipment back around her head, tightening the mask and securing the air filter located on the bottom left. Her breath had fogged up the bottom of the lenses but did not obscure her vision enough to interfere with her finding her gloves. They were old, in rough condition, but well insulated and reinforced to keep the material together. She pulled them back over her scarred hands and shifted her bag up so that her head would rest against it when she laid down. Her tangled blonde locks were pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and the hood on her heavy coat came next. Slowly, she laid herself down onto the piles of material and brought her eyes to her watch on her left wrist, setting an alarm on the atomic clock strapped around her wrist, juxtaposed above her Geiger counter. It was routine at this point—the blonde had been traveling for over a week now, and those faint, slow clicks from the bracelet reminded her that perhaps this journey was for nothing.

As she laid down, she looked at the photo her father had given her—Him, standing with three other warriors. Those who had made a deadly journey to Patch in search of medical supplies and returned in one piece. They had brought it all in one train car, and all of the food and medical supplies on board saved their civilization from famine. Her father, Taiyang, standing proud with his helmet and mask under his arm, in front of the others. Qrow, not drunk for once, a smile breaking his lips as he looked at the camera. Raven, lurking near the back without enjoyment in sight, and finally… Summer. She was mid-laugh when the old photograph was taken, bright and full of life. Her gloved thumb stroked over the crumpled photograph slowly in sad adoration. It was not her birth mother, but she was her Mom. Because of her, the loner woman knew what being above ground for too long could do to people. She died of radiation poisoning, and all she could do was watch her mom pass away. It was painful for her, she was only seven years old at the time, and her sister four. Ruby didn’t understand what had happened yet, which made explaining everything so much harder. For so many years, she didn’t dare touch the surface, her thoughts circulating solely around the fact that it had killed her mom. It had not been until recently did her desire to find her real mom outweigh her fear. She made several trips to the surface and found nothing but the bleak, broken landscape, and the creatures of Grimm. She learned the best way to avoid them fast and spent three years prepping for this journey. Finally, at the age of twenty-two, she had departed and now found herself inside a series of decrepit train cars on railroads that hadn’t been used in many years, low on food and low on morale. The woman closed her eyes, slowly, letting the soft fogging of her breath against the lenses obscure the faint, warm light entering the cart as she slowly faded into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

A low, distant droning noise was what initially had shaken the blonde from her slumber. It was so far off, though, that she had a difficult time perceiving it as any real threat. In a groggy fashion, the woman sat up a bit and pulled her wrist up to her eyes to look at the time. 04:18. She curled her lip up and yawned, the action stifled by the mask she wore. The lone wanderer shifted to settle back into bed, at least for another hour, when she heard the noise again. This time, however, the train car in which she was in began to rumble. Her tired eyes widened, and she planted her gloved hands firmly against the fabrics she was laying upon, sensing exactly what was going on. And, once more, that noise rang out. Much, much close than it was before, and the sound of many wheels turning in tandem to carry a vehicle was audible to her. By the time that she realized just what it could be, the noise resounded again— _A horn. Oh shit._

The loner had no time to respond, as the booming sound of an initial impact and the crunch of the cars before hers kickstarted her panic. She was thrown to the ground, already having been up in a half-kneeling position, and her items not secured by her bag were scattered. She hit the ceiling of the rail cart, the temporary shelter already having been on its side on the tracks, and the metal deathtrap began to roll. She grabbed her backpack as it was tossed about, slinging it over her shoulders, and shoved her journal into a pouch on her coat as it flew past her in the chaos. Her left hand secured the shotgun against the side of her bag and she was tossed back onto the wall from the ensuing rolling of the cart. Screeching metal filled the previously empty sound of the dead, snowy landscape, and she scrambled to get back onto her feet. She spotted the door in the topsy-turvy orientation of her small shelter and kicked it open, launching herself towards it to escape. Just her luck, however, the cart turned again, and her exit was now on the ceiling. At least this time, she had caught her footing, but it had not been by much. The walls under her heavy boots, already in decrepit condition, began to rip and tear, the sheet metal being pulled apart like wet paper. With what little bearings she had, she launched herself up and grabbed the threshold of the exit, her adrenaline pumping harder than it had in weeks. She pulled herself free from that deathtrap by the skin of her teeth and lunged onto the cause of the destruction of her temporary shelter—and several of her things—which was a train.

A goddamned train. A running train, with people actually driving it. She was clutching desperately onto the ram, which had now effectively torn through the cart she was staying in, and turned it into a useless pile of rubble. She didn’t even have time to register someone shouting at her until she looked up, through the broken window at the head of the train, and saw a woman. The first thing she noticed about her was a cold icy blue right eye, and that massive cut over her left eye. She could see that because the mask she wore was one unlike she had ever seen—in fact, she could see her whole face. This woman looked just as confused and horrified as the loner felt, but it was only amplified once there was a bullet that struck the metal not four inches away. She panicked and scrambled up the rusty metal ram, fingers desperately digging in wherever they could as she made her way up, almost to the railing. Her hand reached out to grab it, but a massive blow to the back of the train caused the whole locomotive to lurch forward. She lost her footing and began to plummet, breath catching in her throat as her heart skipped a beat.

It seemed she wasn’t going to die, not yet because a man had caught her arm over the railing. He wore a similarly clear mask to the woman on board the train, probably the conductor, but the filters were covering everything below his nose on his face. He had a fierce, determined look on his face, and with some struggling, he pulled her up to safety as the bullets whizzed past her. When she landed on the floor, she made a move to lean up but stopped the second the barrel of a rifle was pressed against the back of her head. She felt goosebumps spread across her body in fear as she slowly turned her head, looking at the assailant through the corner of her eye. All she could see was the barrel of the rifle. The loner was ecstatic that she had found other people, that they weren’t alone in the world, but knew this was also a bad thing. A very bad thing, as she now had a gun pointed at her head. She had no weapons in reach—her best option right now would be to cooperate. She was outnumbered.

“What’ll we do with him, Ren?” Came a feminine voice from behind her—the one who was holding her at gunpoint. The man in front of her seemed to ponder for just a moment before he spoke.

“She, actually. I got a good look at her eyes when I pulled her up. She doesn’t seem affiliated with the SDC, so—” He was interrupted by more gunfire, and hit the ground immediately when a belt of machine-gun fire berated the cabin above the railing. The woman followed directly after and removed her gun from the back of the blonde’s head. She crawled two feet forward and pressed herself against the railing, bringing her weapon up and returning the favor by blind firing. The man, Ren, looked at the loner and crawled up closer so that he could look her in the eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, her violet eyes darting between each of his pink ones. “I hope you’re good with a rifle. Help us, and you can stay.” He finally said, somehow determining that the blonde wasn’t a threat to them. At least, not compared to the—

“Heiress! Stop your train now, or we will be forced to stop it for you!” Came a voice over an intercom, and the blonde peeked her head up to sneak a peek at what it was that had been following and firing at them. It was an adjacent train, armed to the teeth and in better condition than the one she was riding on. Before she had a chance to ask any questions, a heavy rifle was thrown her way and she caught it, looking down at it. This man must have had a great deal of trust in her not to open fire on him. How did he know? She tucked her lip and braced herself, looking over the railing to see those who were shooting at her in the first place. She didn’t know who was on whose side—all she knew was that there were other people opening fire on her, and it was survival of the fittest. She shoved the stock of the rifle into her shoulder and leaned up, laying down the heat. The woman who was standing at the control panel of the train before now popped around the corner to shout at her compatriots.

“Ren! Prep the explosives—we’re getting out of this one way or another. Move back to cart three, and when I pump the brakes, you enter. You know what to do.” She commanded, and the man nodded in silent agreement. He reached into his bag and pulled some miscellaneous items out, and it just occurred to the loner that he was making room for something. The conductor slid over four large plate-shaped items to the man, which he was quick to take and slide into his backpack. It registered in the blonde’s head that they were the explosives. She pulled her eyes back to the enemy train and took note of the other woman reloading, so she provided covering fire. Several bullets struck the railing beside her, but she was quick enough to evade any mortal injuries when they began to return fire once more. A voice came over the loudspeakers, except this time it was the one she had just heard.

“Fine! Applying the brakes now...” The conductor announced, and immediately after there was a bump, followed by the sound of the brake pads engaging. They were beginning to slow down, but the blonde picked up on the fact that it wasn’t as fast as it could have been. The firing of weapons slowly ceased, and she took this moment to reload. She had a strong feeling that it wasn’t over yet. They had begun to slow down, but the acceleration was put back on once the train was set further back from their opponent. This action did not go unnoticed by the rival train conductor, it seemed.

“Weiss Schnee! If you do not stop your train now, I will tear it apart!” He threatened in a booming voice over the speakers, which faintly crackled from him shouting into them. The so-called heiress did not back down, instead giving a quick quip of her own.

“The train takes a few moments to slow down at this speed! I’m braking as fast as I can!” She stalled, easing into the brake just a little bit more according to how their train lagged just a bit more. When the blonde looked over at the other woman with a gun, she seemed to have it at the ready, for as soon as she popped up, she was prepared to lay down fire. The conductor’s statement dragged an annoyed sigh out of the other driver, but he was far too impatient. It seemed that he was done playing those games with her.

“Schnee! Stop the train now! Quit stalling before I’m forced to open fire on you! My gunners will tear that stolen train apart, and I will drag you back to your father, alive or not!” Came his vicious response, and her eyes darted between her conductor and the opposing locomotive. They were prepping for an attack. Whatever the man on their side was doing, he had to do it fast. “Fine. Men, turn that train into swiss cheese!” He demanded, and all the gunners turned their guns on them.

Just as this happened, however, there was a massive explosion that erupted from the locomotive that caused it to jump its track. The heat hit the loner in a massive wave, and she lowered her weapon to watch as the entire train went up in flames up ahead. The throttle was suddenly pushed to the max, and they began to speed ahead as the brakes were forced on the opposing train. They all lurched back as the train suddenly picked up speed, going as fast as it could on the rickety tracks they were riding on. From the fires spreading on the other train came the man, lunging off from the edge and jumping towards the rails that she and the other woman were right by. Said other woman dropped her weapon to the platform and launched her arm out, catching one of his as he just barely made the gap. He slipped down, unable to get a good foothold against the rusted exterior, and threatened to fall to the ground. The blonde had stopped for just a few moments, breath catching in her throat before her weapon also fell to the ground and she jumped for his other arm, clutching it powerfully to keep him from careening down into the ground speeding past. A secondary explosion erupted from the locomotive behind them now, and the whole thing went toppling off its rails. It was far enough behind now, luckily, that it did not impact them. With some effort, she and the other woman were able to pull this man—Ren is his name—up onto the platform right behind the conductor’s chamber.

“Ren! Oh, that was so amazing, you destroyed their whole train!” The small woman celebrated, yanking him into a very aggressive hug. He made a small huff noise, patting his companion on the head lightly. Out came the conductor as well, allowing the train to slow down just a bit more now so they weren’t burning unnecessary fuel.

“Great job, Ren. That’ll keep them off us. I don’t see them pursuing after that.” She remarked, and all eyes went to the loner they dragged aboard. The blonde looked between them, and the one they called heiress pulled her wrist up to check one of the gauges she had there. “Alright, we’re out of the red zone.” She sighed and reached up to peel her mask free of her face. Down came her hood, and carefully braided white hair came tumbling down her shoulders. Her left eye was still shut from where she had suffered some sort of injury, and the blood caked on wasn’t helping. The other two followed suit and off came their helmets and masks. The man had deep black hair pulled up into a war-bun, with an unusually colored feather the same color of his eyes hanging on the left of his face. The other woman, vibrant blue eyes and strangely colored hair—it was orange. Suddenly, it occurred to her that they all pulled their masks free, and she panicked internally.

“Wait—what are you doing? You’re all going to get sick!” She protested, her voice hoarse and low. It sounded unfamiliar to her, her own voice, as it had been over a week since she has had to use it at all. She coughed and cleared her throat, reaching out to emphasize her point. The heiress scoffed.

“The air is clear here, stowaway. You can take your mask off.” She said, and those words simply didn’t register with her. She looked between them, their breathing even and fine, before she looked down to her own Geiger counter. It did not lie—the gauge was in the green. The air here was breathable. Slowly, the woman reached up and touched the hood, pulling it down, and the mask came with it. Everything was clearer now, and the biting cold was a welcome one against her face. “What, have you been living under a rock for the past 20 years?” The white-haired woman said with an annoyed, sour expression. The genuine disbelief on the blonde’s face seemed to make her expression soften a bit, however.

“Yes, actually. Under many rocks, the rubble of Vale.” She said, and the three looked between one another. “What... How are you alive? Driving this machine, have all of this gear?” She suddenly asked, and the heiress seemed to be the one willing to answer her questions. Her responses did not seem as snarky as before but still had a certain edge to them.

“Vale? I have no idea what that is. And it sounds like you really have been living under many rocks! I am—err, was, the heiress to the SDC. That’s why we have this gear, and that’s why I have this SDC train. My name is Weiss. Weiss Schnee.” This woman, Weiss, replied to the loner. Picking up on this comment, the blonde bowed her head slightly in a nod down.

“Yang Xiao Long. You can just call me Yang. SDC?” She questioned, taking a quick sweep of the train she was standing on. Now that she mentioned it, there were a few prints of those letters stamped against the steel. Weiss rolled her eyes.

“You’ve never heard of SDC? Really?” Yang just blinked. “Ugh. Schnee Drilling Company? One of the largest distributors of oil in the old world, and still the largest in all of Sanus?” She said irritably, motioning out with her hands. “Fine. Well, the new headquarters is based out of Vacuo, because that is where the largest old-world oil wells are located on this continent.” She educated the blonde, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out over the landscape. “Beacon is a hotspot for radiation, it's where some of the nastiest mutants reside, too.” The blonde, her name revealed as Yang, furrowed her brows at Weiss’s commentary.

“So... Where are we headed now? And what is a Beacon?” Her question gave her another dirty look from the heiress. Yang was getting real sick of that real fast. Nora interjected, taking note of Weiss’s demeanor.

“Well, we are headed as far away from Vacuo as possible. That’s where Ren and I just escaped. Oh! Introductions, yes,” The redhead cleared her throat, before offering a smile. “My name is Nora Valkyrie, and I’m the main mechanic for the train!” She concluded and elbowed the man next to her who picked up on her not-so-subtle hint.

“Lie Ren. Weapon-smith and covert specialist.” His explanation was short and sweet.

“Are there any more of you?” Nora was quick to ask, leaving Weiss out of the conversation for the time being. It was difficult to ignore how annoyed the heiress seemed to be at receiving so many of the questions. Yang pondered her response for just a moment—Should she tell them; can she trust them with revealing how many of them there were? Perhaps it would be best to do as her uncle says—play your cards close to your chest.

“It’s just me out here. I was taking shelter in that rail cart your train rammed off the tracks.” Yang’s slightly hoarse response came, and it was her turn to cross her arms against her chest as she pulled her wary gaze to Weiss.

“I never once said you were coming along with us.” Weiss defied; her lips pulled into a pursed frown.

“Wait, Weiss, Yang helped us fight them off. And she helped me pull Ren up! I mean, we did sort of almost kill her and broke her home…” Nora interjected, her hands clasped around Ren’s bicep as she argued. “Besides, we could use more fighters. She has been living out here on her own, in the red zone no less! I think having her around could be beneficial. I mean, you already saved us, so what’s one more?” She concluded, glancing up at Yang before her eyes moved back to their captain. Weiss didn’t seem to enjoy the thought as she glanced at Ren, hoping to get his two cents on the situation. He gave a firm nod to her, and it caused the heiress to sigh.

“Fine. You’re lucky, Xiao Long.” She mumbled and turned around to head back into the locomotive. Yang offered a smile up to the redhead who vouched for her and gave her a chance. This was beneficial to the blonde—she was no longer inside of a horribly irradiated zone, and this heiress might be able to help find her mother. It seemed like she was making some good progress after all. Nora reached into her coat pocket and rummaged around for just a moment before she plucked a medical kit from inside and handed it to Yang. She pointed at her own left eye, and the finger followed through to point at the front of the train. The blonde took the hint and the medkit. She let out a sigh and nodded wordlessly, turned around, and headed for the entrance.

Her heavy boots signaled her entrance into the front cart, and she looked around. Several maps with various coordinates scrawled against tables and pinned to the metal, with a large radio resting on a table near the entrance. Weiss was sitting at a desk, with a faded blue cloth pressed against her face. Yang knocked, and the small woman raised a hand to acknowledge her entrance. The blonde stepped inside and walked over to the desk, kneeling down next to it.

“What is it this time? I don’t have time—” Weiss stopped speaking as she turned to the warrior, glancing at the medical kit in her hand, and that small half-smile on her lips. The heiress pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. An acceptance, it seemed. “Fine, just… make it quick. We have work to do.” This comment caused the blonde to smile a little wider, and Weiss to grumble as the med kit was opened.

“Of course, Cap’n.”


	3. Chapter 3

“How many klicks out are we now?” Nora asked from the grates below the mini command center set up in the front of the train. She was the one who would occasionally shovel coal into the furnace to keep the locomotive in motion but was still connected with the rest of the group. Ren was seated at the table on the far right, inspecting and cleaning the weapons laid out before him. One of them was Yang’s shotgun, which was a little worse for wear because she had lacked the proper supplies to tend to it. She didn’t mind that he was fiddling with it—he did claim to be a weaponsmith of sorts after all. Yang was seated at the radio, writing down any coordinates she received from frequencies on the pages seated before her. She jotted down important signals and cross-examined them with the map, seeing if any were along the way. One, in particular, had caught her eye, something about bandits, and it just so happened to be a few klicks out from the railroad. Only issue was this area was a very dense jungle, so it would be a little more difficult to traverse the terrain.

“Around seventy-five. By then, Myrtenaster will be running on fumes. We’ll need to make a stop there and pray that they have some supplies.” Weiss declared, looking over the map on the corkboard and placing another pin into the white tracks. Yang looked up at the captain, who now had an eyepatch over her left eye temporarily to properly heal the damage done while escaping, and rested her chin against her palm.

“Uh, did you name your runaway train?” She asked in a flat, curious manner, her fingers slowly tapping against the wood. All of them had stripped off their layers as they made their way out from the red zone in Vale since it was only the surrounding old-world kingdom that suffered the most severe nuclear winters. Out here, as they were making their way towards Mistral, the weather began to become more temperate and would continue this trend until they reached the tropical destination near the top of the continent. From twenty klicks and on, easily into the forty-thousands, the continent continued to span right, all the way to the last old-world kingdom on this continent, Vytal. That was the one furthest away, and all the landscape before then was primarily mountains, sheer cliffs, and lots of dense jungles. The hard border of the jungle’s tree line could be seen from this distance, and beyond that was nothing but green for miles and miles.

“Why yes, Yang, I did. Very perceptive.” Weiss mocked, looking up from her map scrawling to make eye contact. The blonde in question pulled her lip up in distaste but said nothing more. She knew that Weiss was a very sassy individual from the short time they’ve spent together so far. She would often make unnecessary remarks, and Yang felt as if she were trying to piss her off on purpose. Ren and Nora seemed accustomed to this, however, leading her to believe that was just her personality. No one ever said she had to have a nice personality, so she was entitled to acting like a brat at times. Heiress’s train, heiress’s rules, and she was more than fine with following that philosophy if she could keep traveling on this train. Or rather, ex-heiress. The blonde decided to speak again, wanting to be able to explore that frequency before they traveled too far into the jungle, even if it meant she go find it on her own.

“What if I took a vehicle for recon? Make sure that the rails are intact and there is actually a place we can stop to collect resources. We wouldn’t want to be sitting ducks in the middle of a dense jungle, too many opportunities for ambush.” The blonde pondered out loud, attempting to convince her party that this was an idea worth considering. Weiss opened her mouth immediately, ready to reject her idea without any further consideration, but her blue eyes lit up with curiosity. Her ajar lips were snapped shut, and she paused to think about her offer. The sound of a weapon being set down could be heard from right, and the two above-deck so-to-speak looked at Ren.

“I think it’s a wise decision. I could either accompany her, or I could stay behind.” He said after a few moments, finishing the final touches on Yang’s shotgun before it was set down. The blonde understood his intention and she rose to her feet, walking over to take her weapon back from him. She picked it up and inspected it briefly, before slinging it over her back and securing it to the straps she had there. The sound of a shovel scraping against metal and coal being thrown into the engine could be heard before it was set aside once more as Nora spoke up.

“Well, I would prefer it if you stayed here Ren! If the train were to get attacked out here, in the open, I don’t think that Weiss and I alone could hold off… If we did send anyone out for recon, I think it best that it’s either just you or just Yang. We could use the firepower here. Also, that deployable cart behind the ram still works just fine, so whoever goes could take that to ensure the tracks will hold our weight near those riverbeds.” She spoke up through the grate on the floor, drawing the attention of the rest in their party. Yang tightened the shotgun to her back and walked back over to the table to pick up her large bag. She hoisted it up and slipped it onto her shoulders, making the decision silently.

“I have a lot of experience being out on my own. Never been to a place like this before, but… I’ll be sure to make it count. Show me how to work it, and I’ll check it out when we’re right outside.” Yang wasn’t leaving too much room for argument with that. Weiss tried to interject, her expression unsure, but Ren beat her to it.

“If that’s the case, then stop by my workbench in cart one. I have a weapon I would recommend taking with you, as well as some supplies that may help you out there.” He said and rose from his place at the table and glanced at Weiss. The shortest woman on board exhaled with her lack of having a valid say in this and leaned back in her seat. Yang glanced at her, violet connecting with blue before the ex-heiress broke eye contact to look back at her maps.

“Well, I suppose it’s not a terrible idea. There is a working radio aboard the tram, so you can use that to keep in communication with us and let us know the situation.” She said, and the blonde nodded as she turned around to leave. As she reached the door though, Weiss suddenly said her name. “Oh, and um, Yang,” The conductor caught her attention, and Yang glanced over her shoulder to make eye contact once more. Her expression seemed a little softer now, and her marker impatiently tapped against the tabletop. “Please be safe. Come back in one piece.” She said, and it was enough to tug the smallest of smiles to Yang’s lips. She gave a determined nod and turned back over, exiting the locomotive to gather up any supplies she still had left.

_I’ve been traveling with this small crew for six days now. I have tried to contact Ruby and Dad back home, tell them that I am still alive, but I can’t pick up any signals inside of Vale. Weiss suggested that it could be the radiation. Speaking of, she is the conductor of the crew I’ve been adopted into. Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Drilling Company before she stole a train of her fathers’ and took off to get as far away from him as possible. She is very expressive with her facial features and likes to make you feel stupid when what she says isn’t common knowledge. She’s stuck-up and talks like a privileged little girl, but I think that adds a little bit to her appeal. It wasn’t for long, but I did see her soft side when I patched up her eye._

_Another one of the crew members is probably the quietest guy I have ever met. His name is Lie Ren, and he really is a man of few words. He is a weapons expert and can sneak around every which way. I tried him in hand-to-hand combat, and he wasn’t bad. Lucky for me that’s one of my specialties, so the crew was pretty surprised when I could lay them all on their asses. I guess when you grow up on the surface, you have a lot of land you must be able to fight people with so I can’t fault them. I’m fine with distance, but it’s certainly not my strong suit._

_The last member is a woman named Nora Valkyrie. She reminds me a lot of Ruby—she’s energetic and optimistic, so it’s a welcome change. She’s probably my favorite so far. She is the one who keeps the train running and enjoys spending a large chunk of her time tossing coal into the engine. She was the first to really open up to me and has arm-wrestled me on several occasions. I don’t see how she and Ren get along so well, but I’m glad they’re happy._

_When I left the Tunnels, I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone so soon, if anyone at all. Seven days ago, I had lost a lot of hope when I was lying in that train cart. Now things seem better, and I am ready to head out. Who would it hurt if I checked out that signal along the way as well?_

Yang tapped her fingers against the watch strapped to her wrist, above her Geiger counter. They were now on the edge of the jungle region now, and the weather had gotten much hotter. According to Weiss, Vale-- which she knows as Beacon—wasn’t all snow and hell before the Great War. The region was very warm for most of the year, but the nuclear devastation caused to that old-world kingdom alone was enough to evoke a large-scale nuclear winter. It had been going on ever since. In fact, Yang was sweating in all the gear she had before and had to peel a few layers off. Now she wore a ballistic jacket covered in a plethora of pouches, her bracers over each forearm, reinforced fingerless gloves, and her heavy, ballistic weaved cargo pants tucked into her steel-toed boots. Her gas mask hung off her belt, in a convenient and accessible place if she went anywhere with dangerous fumigation or an irradiated hotspot. As she made her way out of the cabins, Ren reached a hand out to stop her before she passed. She turned her head to him, and their eyes met, his gaze unwavering.

“Here. While I trust your hand with a shotgun, your enemy will see you from a distance. See them first.” He said simply and pulled a weapon from the table. More specifically, it was a bolt-action sniper rifle. He held it out to the blonde, and she reached her hand out to take the weapon from him. She adjusted the metal stock and pulled it against her shoulder, aiming the rifle outside and gazing through the scope. It had at least four markers on it, ticks for different distances. Her right hand snaked under the rifle to pull the bolt action back on it, and she peered into the chamber to see the bullet ready to be locked into action. She didn’t want to rack the round and keep it loaded, however, so she plucked the round out from the rifle and jammed the action forward, bringing her right hand back to the trigger. The scope was probably a 4X, looking at the magnification it provided. She lowered the rifle and looked at Ren, offering a supportive smile.

“Thanks. I’ll take good care of ‘er.” Yang told him firmly and pulled the rifle over her shoulder to secure it there by her shotgun. Deft fingers flicked down to feel at the handgun strapped to her right thigh, doing so just to ensure its presence there. She wanted to be sure she was ready for this. “I’ll be back in one piece. Be on the air as I make my way out.” She concluded and raised a hand to bid him farewell.

Making her way from the caboose to the locomotive, she cut around along the railing outside and made her way to the ram in the front. The crane lowered when she approached and hooked the ram, prying it up and revealing the separate cart hidden behind it. She puffed her chest out and walked down the stairs leading to it, taking the last drop to the rails that were stationary below her. Her heavy boots clunked against the unkempt rails heading into the jungle, and she approached the cart. She skirted the side of it and squeezed her way in, clambering up into the drivers’ seat and settling down. Yang leaned forward and pulled the rod for the electric lightbulb above, having it click on and illuminate the cockpit. Brushing the back of her hand against the dials and screens, she dismissed the dust sitting atop it all and placed her thumb against one of the sliders. The blonde pushed it up and grabbed the lever to her left, starting the whole engine as it sparked to life. Yang’s hand moved up to flick several of the switches down on the wall, testing the lights and diverting some power to the radio. She heard the static roar to life over the radio and turned the volume down a bit. Pushing on the main throttle, the recon vehicle lurched forward and began to chug forward, the pistons beginning to pump faster as it started to pick up more speed. Once she was about half a minute out, she heard the crane lower the ram back down, and the rumble from its weight hitting the track shook some of the dials on the dash.

It had been several hours since she had left now. Yang eased back into the driver’s seat as she progressed forward, letting her hand off of the accelerator and brought it to the radio instead. She played with the dial between her thumb and her forefinger until a quiet old-world pop tune began to play in a crackly manner over the speakers. Her eyes lit up—she had never heard of music playing over the radios until she was on the train with her ragtag group of young adults. She never was able to pick up any radio signals in Vale, so everything felt so new to her now. She closed her eyes and bopped her head to the beat, feeling the music, and was thoroughly enjoying herself now as the cart made its way through the thick trees. The breeze hit her face, causing her blonde locks still pulled up into a loose ponytail to blow with it and gently whip from side to side. When her violet eyes opened back up, she gazed out over the landscape and her breath caught in her throat. The sun, hanging high in the sky, sent reflections off of the wide rivers to her left and those towering trees provided little cover from the light. There was so much nature around her, so alive and vibrant, it was like the fairytales her father shared with them as children. She settled back in her seat and looked at the world around, experiencing it like she never had before in the damp, dark Tunnels that she had called home. All of the tracks seemed to be in good enough condition, but they were beginning to creep closer to the large river on her left side. There must have been a huge gush of water at one point, one that tore away some of the land and caused the track to become a little more unsteady. She eyed it with some weariness and decided to call it in. Turning the song off and dialing back to the frequency that Myrtenaster used, she held down the call lever.

“Myrtenaster, Yellow calling in. You read? Over.” She waited for just a moment, releasing the call as she paused for a response. The radio crackled just a bit before a somewhat whiny voice came over.

“White reads you. I get that you’re not used to radios, Yang, but there’s no need to maintain radio silence for four and a half hours.” She complained, and the blonde leaned against the support as she shrugged, even if the other party wouldn’t see it. “How are things looking out there?”

“Eh, the shortest path is looking a bit dicey past the three-split. Path on the left goes over some bridges, and the rivers from that topographical map are bigger now than that outdated map suggests.” Yang observed, sitting up so that she had a clear view of the rails ahead. “I don’t think it’s gonna hold the train’s weight. I’ll be reaching the checkpoint you were talking about on the map in about an hour at this rate, so I’ll radio in when I arrive.” She said, and was about to resume radio silence when she suddenly felt the train cart rumble under her feet. She made a swift move to stand and looked at the bridge she was headed for and saw a single large rock tumble down off of the cliff face to her right. Then, followed by several more, and they crashed into the cart on the right. “Shit! Rockslide, Weiss, I’m—” And the bridge collapsed under the weight, sending Yang and the cart careening into the water below. On the surface, the river was calm and slow, but beneath were unforgiving rapids that whipped and thrashed her about. She choked on some of the water and desperately tried to get to the surface but was caught up in a riptide. Her shotgun and bag were ripped from her back, and as she made a desperate grab for them, her head was slammed into a rock, causing the world around her to immediately fade to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What old-world pop song do you think Yang was listening to?


	4. Chapter 4

_Black. Everything is black. Am I dead? No… No, I can see something. But I—I can’t breathe. My hands… I can see them, but I can’t move them. I’m numb, I’m… dying._

When Yang’s eyes slowly opened, she could see her hands floating in front of her, but she had no will to move them. The sun was setting, and the beams of orange light cut through the water and distorted the brightness, leaving the placid surface during the golden hour to almost glow in the late hours of the day. No air was escaping her mouth, her lungs feeling full of nothing but water. Those violet orbs were glazed over but her ears still operated, hearing the very muffled noise of footsteps and someone speaking.

She watched lifelessly as the surface tension of the river was broken, and a black form began to swim towards her. As it grew near, she saw an intimidating animal’s skull which obscured the face of the person. Their slender arms were wrapped around her torso and they propelled the two of them upwards, breaking the surface tension. The person had a difficult time treading the water and keeping Yang afloat too, but with some difficulty, they managed to drag Yang to shore. She could hear them grunt, mumbling something along the lines of her being _heavier than you look_ in a breathless manner before she felt her limp form collapse uselessly against the sand and mud.

The figure, who she could see far more clearly than before now, had many tribal tattoos and streaks of red-stained into the white skull of the predator whose head they used as a cover. Their clothing consisted of camouflaged armor on their chest and back, but the rest of them had pieces of black, shredded clothes and various sticks and bracken sticking out from twine that secured them to different placed on their form. Beneath it all was pale, scarred skin, hardly able to be seen from the mud and ink. They collapsed to Yang’s side and clasped their hands together, bringing them to the blonde’s chest. Yang could vaguely feel the pressure and a solid pump to the center. Then, another, and a third. The soaking wet blonde’s body convulsed slightly, but that was the only response she gave. Yang’s mysterious savior pulled their mask up and looked at her with concern and determination evident in her features. _And, speaking of features, wow…_ Her savior was a woman. One with jet black hair and piercing golden eyes. They seemed to look right through Yang, and if she were conscious of everything going on, she may even be flustered. That fierce look in her eyes was what had enraptured her so. They almost seemed to glow under the dim light of the sunset, exaggerated from the way those warm beams of light outlined the left side of her body.

“C’mon, c’mon, breathe, dammit. Come back...” The mysterious woman cursed, and she tossed a leg over Yang’s hips, positioning herself better so that she could apply more pressure to her chest. At this point, she was straddling the blonde’s waist. She placed her hands against her chest once more and started to pump it rhythmically again, giving her all in her attempts to resuscitate the stranger. When that didn’t seem to help, she cursed under her breathless anger and slammed her fists against the traveler’s chest, which was enough to knock the water loose. Yang’s eyes suddenly widened, and she began to cough violently, the water causing her to gag, and it poured from her mouth in excess. The woman who was on her waist made a noise in the back of her throat and was quick to slide off her to sit at her side instead. Yang sat up and hacked hard, vision going blurry as she dry heaved and expelled the rest of the water from her lungs. She collapsed backward to her previous position and closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily with some difficulty. Too deep of breaths caused that itch to return, and she involuntarily would cough again. The person next to her raised a brow at this, before turning to her side and patting around blindly briefly. She turned back around, a weapon now occupying her deft hands. Yang was nudged with it and opened her exhausted, violet eyes to see what it was that had just nudged into her left shoulder. At first, she was slightly panicked, thinking that she was downrange of it, but calmed when she realized that it was a somewhat familiar weapon. It was the sniper rifle that Ren had given to her, right before she left. She reached her hand to it and grasped it clumsily, clutching it against her chest.

“Hey... Thank you, I don’t know what— wow, you’re…” She didn’t have ample opportunity to finish her sentence, because as she looked up at her mysterious savior, she saw the expression she was wearing. Her lips were pursed to suppress a smile, and her golden eyes seemed at least a little delighted. Yang wasn’t sure why, but she felt as that damned heat immediately rose to her cheeks, turning them rosy, red, and she looked away before the other woman could read too closely into it. “I—thank you, for—” And she was cut off because this woman’s expression turned a little more serious as she clapped a hand over the blonde’s mouth. _Really, Yang? Come on, you can be smoother than that. Not like she just literally saved your life because you almost drowned or anything._

“Blake! Did you find anything over there?” Called a rough male’s voice, from about thirty yards out. Any amusement present on her features before vanished instantly, and she made eye contact with Yang as she shouted back. Her gaze was so intense that the blonde was half-surprised she did not shudder under those sharp eyes.

“No, there’s nothing, Adam.” Her voice was steady and firm, its pitch a little lower than what Yang was initially expecting from the hunter. She was able to lie to whoever that was, Adam, without a hitch, and the survivor knew that it was to protect her.

“Well, keep looking for that bandit’s supplies or come back to me, my love!” This woman, Blake, tore her eyes away from Yang to look in the direction of where his voice came from. Her upper lip seemed to pull up into something akin to a scowl, but as quickly as it had appeared it was gone once again. The black-haired woman drew her hand back and shifted from her kneeling position to stand instead. The tribal woman leaned over and scooped a crossbow up from a broken tree stump, slinging it over her shoulder and securing it in place. Those observant eyes looked back to Yang, and all the woman who was just brought back from the dead could do was stare back.

“Don’t die out here. If you can prove that you’re strong, then I will be seeing you again.” She said to the woman who was still lying there, trying to catch her breath and slid that intimidating mask back down to cover her face once again. And, just like that, she vanished into the bushes and was out of sight. Yang’s blonde head of tangled dirty hair flopped back down into the mud and she allowed her eyes to fall shut. Before she knew it, she slipped into a power nap, trying to regain some of the energy she expended when she was trying to keep herself alive.

This power nap, however, had turned into a short rest.

It had felt like Yang just blinked, but when she had initially closed her eyes, the sun was setting, and she was left to bathe in the gentle orange hues of golden hour. When she opened her eyes though, it was around midnight. More importantly, there was a bird on her chest, very close to her face. She made a sour expression and waved at it, causing the black-feathered animal to depart. The moon sat up at its highest position in the sky, the crescent illuminating the landscape around her. The gentle white light highlighted the small ripples in the water, a stark difference than the rapids she had been swept away in. Slowly the loner sat up, placing the sniper rifle she pulled across her down by her side and brought her gloved hand up to touch the point of impact on the back of her head. It was still tender but bringing her palm back to her face revealed no blood on the fabric. Yang set her hand down in the mud and pushed herself up, grabbing the sniper on the way up as well. She reached back to feel for her backpack, and just her luck, it was gone. Letting out a very irritated sigh, she did a quick check of everything on her. Her gas mask and three filters, an embroidered lighter with ornate designs, her journal, a considerable amount of shotgun and sniper ammunition, and at least two medical needles, among other small miscellaneous items. Yang did a quick sweep, looking for her bag or at least the area in which the bridge had collapsed, but she had no such luck. Slinging the sniper rifle over her shoulder, she pulled the pistol from her right thigh out and flicked the safety down, holding it close to her waist as she began to walk.

Nature was just as beautiful at night, if not a little intimidating. It was all very unfamiliar to her, and there were too many blind spots that had only fueled her uncertainty. She was in territory she had never seen, and there were more strange people out there, some of which who could be hostile. That woman, though… She was so mysterious, and had saved Yang but for what? That Blake woman couldn’t have benefitted from saving her life at all, so why? She took her steps out of the mud, and towards an overgrown gate. She looked at it carefully, sliding her left pointer finger up to turn on the flashlight. It was dimmer than what she had been hoping for. There was something that she hadn’t been expecting, though. Just past the overgrown gate, there were several houses. Decrepit, long since fallen into disrepair, but there was no doubt in her mind that they were dwellings at one point. The blonde took careful steps as she passed through the empty threshold, shining her light into one of the houses before her.

Her heavy boots caused the wooden floorboards to protest against her weight, but they did not give in. Cautiously, she progressed through, looking at various portraits made with post-war paint. This entire small village seemed to have been abandoned somewhat recently, and not everything was rotted out yet. As she moved to turn the corner, she heard a noise and was quick to crouch down. She couldn’t make out concise words, but it was a conversation between people. She crept up and turned off her flashlight, holstering her pistol, and pulled her sniper rifle around as she neared the window at the back of the house. About 200 yards away, she saw the smoke of fire rising up, and the lively orange glow from it behind some thick vegetation. Carefully she began to maneuver her way through the bracken until she was close enough to hear them.

“Fuckin’ animals. Those assholes are such scavengers, getting everything before we can. Good thing we caught another one!” The man laughed, pacing casually around the fire. His rifle was slung up onto both shoulders, and his hands rested on either end to keep it balanced. There was another man just a few feet away, and he appeared to be occupied with something near the tree.

“They wanna live with the animals so bad? I say let them. This asshole will get eaten by the very things he likes to learn from.” The second said with venom in his tone, and when he stepped aside, Yang could make out a person, kneeling with their torso and arms tied to the tree trunk. He seemed to be unconscious, but the mask was familiar. A white animal skull, just like the woman who saved her. Drawing in a breath, Yang flipped her sniper down with practiced grace and aimed down its sights.

“What the fuck is the deal with them anyway? It’s always something! The Hunters, the Pirates, the fucking Children of the Fang, they’re terrible!” The other protested, wrapping his hand around the guard of his weapon as it fell from his shoulders to hang loosely by his side. The other man, presumably a bandit, picked up his weapon that was resting near their captured person, and the blonde narrowed her eyes. Only the two of them—good.

“What does it matter? Let them have their petty clan wars or whatever. ‘Sides, the freaks of the Fang aren’t even human anymore, radiation or inbreeding or something fuckin nasty.” Yang let out a breath, closing her left eye. “Those Pirates just hang out in the mire, so they don’t worry me one bit.” Finger on the trigger, she didn’t inhale. “Assholes, the lot of—” And his sentence was not complete, as a sniper round tore through his head. His body was tossed away in the opposite direction of her firing, and it crumpled entirely once it hit the ground. Yang’s right hand darted to the action, slamming the bolt back and jamming it forward once more to rack another round. The other man shouted in fear and turned around, his flashlight coming on as he looked at the darkness. Before he could even raise his gun, he took a massive hit to the shoulder and fell back. Yang rose to her feet as the fire echoed off of the trees, disturbing some birds who were quick to take off.

The loner made her way over and peered down at the man who was still alive, an unamused expression on her face. She had her sniper aimed at his forehead but decided not to kill him. Instead, she whipped her gun around and smashed him in the face with the stock of it, effectively leaving him out cold. She leaned over and grabbed a knife off of his vest, looking it over before moving towards the unconscious clan member. The blonde kneeled and cut his restraints with it, before sitting down by the fire. A quick survey of the area showed there was a hut up in the trees nearby—her next destination.


	5. Chapter 5

Smoke billowed out from the chapped lips of Yang Xiao Long as her eyes carefully scanned the landscape below. In her left hand was weathered paper rolled tautly into a homemade cigar, stuffed with filler and binder dried leaves that she had collected from various plants. She was currently seated on a log inside of the tree hut she had managed to capture and claimed it as her own for now. Her recently obtained sniper rifle was pressed securely into her right shoulder, and her right hand rested against the handle. The front of her rifle was propped up in the window frame, treating the ledge as a makeshift bipod to act as her counterbalance. The loner wore no shirt, having only a bra to cover her top half. Her cargo pants sat low on her waist, showing even when she was seated. This morning had been particularly hot, and while checking her traps she set, she fell into the water again and needed to dry out her vest and shirt to avoid chaffing. It was an efficient way to wash all of the blood off of her clothes as well, something that really needed to be done with the rest of her gear missing. The early rays of the sun were shining in on her left, confirming that she was sniping North, and the light revealed the many lines on her body. A very thin layer of sweat caused her slightly red, dusted with a cover of freckled skin to sheen, but it in no way removed the appeal of her form. Spending all of her life fightings, adapting, and surviving left her with an impressive physique, if not a little malnourished. Broad shoulders, a chiseled abdomen—the dehydration helped with that definition—with powerful forearms that held the rifle so steady. Her v-line cut into the waistband of her cargo pants, but she wasn’t bothered by this minute detail. More than her fair share of scars littered her form, from all sorts of things—the funniest being from playing in the bunkers with Ruby, to the darkest of almost being torn apart by the Grimm. The most notorious scar was the two claw marks that ripped across her fair skin, leaving nasty white tears from her throat, all the way to her right hip.

Suddenly, a flash of movement off in the distance was caught by those sharp, violet eyes. Her serious expression did not change in any way, however. Her left hand rose to slip the cigar back between her lips, before gripping the guard near the front to keep her weapon steady. She looked down the scope and saw the bandit who had been evading her fire. He darted past the bodies of four other men, all having been taken out by a single sniper, who was half-naked. She exhaled slowly, finger squeezing the trigger slowly, and the powerful rifle reared back against her as the bullet hit its mark. The bandit, mid-sprint, was shot in the shoulder and went careening to the jungle floor, screaming out in pain. Her deft hand shot beneath the rifle to launch the action back, firing out the hot, spent shell to the side. Just as quickly as it was ejected, another was jammed in and her fingers were back against the trigger guard. She inhaled deeply through her nose, finding his head on the second from the bottom notch, and squeezed the trigger once more. This time, after the shot echoed and bounced off of the tall trees of the jungle, there was no scream that followed. Yang decompressed the rifle from her shoulder and sat back just a bit, the tip of her cigar burning bright a mere two inches from her lips. She drew her left hand back to it and took a long drag from the butt, blowing out a considerable amount of light smoke. Her rough, weathered hands handled the relaxer with utmost care as it was lightly swayed to and fro, tapping the butt with her thumb to knock some of the piled ashes away. They fell against her steel-toed boots and the metal-plated floor below, but she didn’t care to acknowledge that. It would be foolish to, looking to the other three butts that had been stomped into oblivion. She ripped one more inhale from her roll, before crushing it between scarred, calloused fingers, and dropping it to the floor to join the rest. The sniper was lifted by capable hands and placed against her shoulders, using the straight rifle to stretch and pop her back as she pulled from side to side. When that satisfying pop was felt, she released a sigh and allowed her rifle to fall back to her side, gripped loosely against her palm. She kneeled to her very rushed bedspread, consisting of some large insect-free leaves and a collection of plants covered by a single worn blanket she raided from one of the dead bandits. Everything she had right now, save for her small collection of things, were taken from those bandits she had killed, whether directly or indirectly. Yang had been hoping that she could find help, but it seemed like she would get no such luxury. All these people she had met in these past three days and every single one of them had wanted her dead. The bandits, who have no regard for anyone but themselves, and that strange man with the white mask she had saved. He initially tried to kill her but seeing how she was the one who rescued him, he instead mumbled in an unfamiliar language and ran off, leaving the blonde with an uneasy feeling and the wariness to look over her shoulder for the day after that. Listening to the mindless chatter of the raiders did help her to draw a few conclusions, though.

Firstly, she was perceived as an outsider, an invader, a bandit, even if she was not either of the last two. There was a camp of these assholes a few clicks North, which was where they kept sweeping in from, and she feared she would run low on ammo soon. Besides them, there were three major factions that presided across this territory: The Children of the Fang, the Hunters, and the Pirates. The Children and the Hunters lived exclusively in the jungle and were both strange cults that were warring with one another. The Children of the Fang wore the skulls of animals, mutants, Grimm, and even some human skulls over their own to hide their identities. She had no idea why other than an attempt to scare their enemies off or perhaps to symbolize a hierarchy. She hadn’t encountered any Hunters yet but was presuming that the hut she was currently staying up in was one of their creations. The third was the Pirates, who controlled a large amount of the mire and swampy areas. She hadn’t met any of them, either. She didn’t know much more about any of them, save for the lack of morals from the Bandits, but that was to be expected.

Yang had spent so much time running over the loose translation of factions present in the jungle that when she brought her thoughts back to the task at hand, she was finishing up with stuffing away items into a bag she had taken from another corpse. Her shirt and vest came on next, and her backpack went on last. The blonde gathered up all evidence of her squatting there, including the butts of her cigars and the spent shells, and disposed of them in the thick brush of the jungle floor. She slid down the rope ladder and dropped against her boots, her rifle in a holstered position as she started to make her way North. Her best option as of right now was to first take all the gear she could from the bodies of the five men she had taken out, then head towards their camp to scout it out. She had a sneaking suspicion that they were already planning another small assault since the sniper was no crossbow. Staying in one place for too long was a death wish—either the bandits could kill her, or the fauna would off her first. There was a pack of wolves that stalked around the base of the trees at night, and she took their threat quite seriously.

Now, as her careful hands sorted through the slim pickings of gear, she had a game plan. Yang would make her way to the bandit camp up North to figure out just what she was dealing with. If they were small, smaller than twenty men, she would find ideal sniping positions and take them out, one by one. If their numbers were stronger than that, however, she wouldn’t be able to take them all without putting herself at risk. Therefore, she would figure out where it was and would avoid it to the best of her ability. After observing their gear, she noticed that their technology wasn’t super primitive, that they had some form of communication between men. She was hoping that there would be a radio tower either near or at their camp, so she could finally check in with her crew and find a way back. Her plan was not the sturdiest, since it was being planned along the way, but she didn’t have time to consider ten different scenarios. Her current objective was to get back into contact with the train and let the three of them know that she was still kicking. She didn’t even want to imagine how pissed Weiss was bound to be that she crashed the recon cart. Shaking that thought away, the blonde focused on the task at hand. She picked up one of the men’s unkempt pipe rifles, a gun that appeared it would jam more often than its worth, but it fired rounds that all the men carried. It wasn’t her favorite option, but it was safe to have a backup for medium-range that wasn’t a revolver. Besides, if there were twenty men, then her sniper didn’t have enough ammunition to go around.

It took nearly all day to traverse the jungle floor. She moved up into the trees when she could, following some precariously hung bridges that were built by people who abandoned them some time ago, so Yang doubted some of the structural integrity because of the distinct lack of upkeep. And the woman did not get through unscathed. A crossbow bolt was fired at her, the projectile landing just a foot away from her head, and there was a note scrawled in poor English secured above the fletching. It was an obvious warning that she was trespassing onto dangerous grounds, but this was the only way that she could go. She pushed on, getting ambushed by three bandits, who she was mostly able to defeat in CQC. Having a ballistic vest was nice, but it was not able to block all of the damage. She was stabbed in the back, right through her left shoulder when she was laying out the second man, and the third got the jump on her. Now her left arm, from her elbow up, was wrapped tautly in worn, stained bandages to prevent any further injury by conventional means. After her full day of travel up a mostly inclined path, she arrived at the encampment. It was… larger than she was hoping for. Obviously, they were well established and armed to the teeth, but nothing about their uniformity or their attacks were consistent. They all used different weapons, some impressive while most others were pipe-guns, and their outfits consisted of all sorts of foreign gear. Either this was intentional so that they wouldn’t be assumed to be in a formal group, or the mismatched gear was equipment raided off of those they executed. Yang was leaning towards the latter, now seeing how almost disorganized they seemed to be. Though these small details were not as important as the radio tower that their whole encampment was based around. Taking a guess from the number of dwellings, campfires, roads, and walls established in this sight, Yang was guessing there had to be well over seventy. The idea of attacking now was far less attractive than it had been ten hours ago. The sun was setting now, and she had spent the last hour looking over everything they had, her desire to claim this place becoming less and less. Only two good things would come out of her success—firstly, she could use the radio tower and signal Myrtenaster, and secondly, she would be wiping this scum out of this section of the forest. In her short time playing overwatch, Yang discovered that enslave and sell the woman that they either find or capture, and all of the men are tied to trees in the wilderness and left for the starving animals to tear them limb from limb. Everything about them was truly grotesque, and her sense of right and wrong was clouding her better judgment. For now, she decided that her best bet would be to find a way to scale the tower without being seen, call in over the radio, then take out as many as she can on her way out. The plan sounded far more fleshed out in her internal monologue.

Preparing for the worst, Yang double-check and triple-checked all of her gear, everything to ensure that it was all prepped and secured. She only had one medical needle left, so she had to be very sparing with how these next few hours would go. There was a single-blind spot, a place well hidden by the trees that blocked the low moon from revealing what her location would be on the back of the structure but making her way up such a steep and spaced incline was a death sentence. Instead, she may try to go through the many established huts and houses that spiraled up, all the way from the base to the thinnest part of the tower. She weighed her options carefully as she finished cleaning off the muck and blood from her sniper rifle, settled in a small alcove 300 yards away from the farthest section of their base. Her violet eyes closed, letting the rifle rest against her palms, and drew in a long, deep breath. Slowly, the exhale came, and the very subtle trembling of her gloved hands grew still. When they opened again, they shone with a fierce determination, and her sniper was slung over her back. She left her backpack here, taking only her three rifles and the clothing on her back with her now. She was going to take the stealthy route up through the dwellings, and she knew just what to do.


End file.
